it, the young girl, still
trembling, as she expressed it, from joy, not fear, avowed all the
particulars of Colleton's escape. She proceeded with much of the fervor
and manner of one roused into all the inspiration of a holy defiance of
danger:--
"Wonder not, therefore, that I tremble--my soul is full of joy at his
escape. I heed not the sneer and the sarcasm which is upon your lips and
in your eyes. I went boldly and confidently even into the chamber of the
youth--I aroused him from his slumbers--I defied, at that moment of
peril, what were far worse to me than your suspicions--I defied such as
might have been his. I was conscious of no sin--no improper thought--and
I called upon God to protect and to sanction me in what I had
undertaken. He has done so, and I bless him for the sanction."
She sunk upon her knees as she spoke, and her lips murmured and parted
as if in prayer, while the tears--tears of gladness--streamed warmly and
abundantly from her eyes. The rage of the outlaw grew momently darker
and less governable. The white foam collected about his mouth--while his
hands, though still retaining their gripe upon hers, trembled almost as
much as her own. He spoke in broken and bitter words.
"And may God curse you for it! You have dared much, Lucy Munro, this
hour. You have bearded a worse fury than the tiger thirsting after
blood. What madness prompts you to this folly? You have heard me avow my
utter, uncontrollable hatred of this man--my determination, if possible,
to destroy him, and yet you interpose. You dare to save him in my
defiance. You teach him our designs, and labor to thwart them yourself.
Hear me, girl! you know me well--you know I never threaten without
execution. I can understand how it is that a spirit, feeling at this
moment as does your own, should defy death. But, bethink you--is there
nothing in your thought which is worse than death, from the terrors of
which, the pure mind, however fortified by heroic resolution, must still
shrink and tremble? Beware, then, how you chafe me. Say where the youth
has gone, and in this way retrieve, if you can, the error which taught
you to connive at his escape."
"I know not what you mean, and have no fears of anything you can do. On
this point I feel secure, and bid you defiance. To think now, that,
having chiefly effected the escape of the youth, I would place him again
within your power, argues a degree of stupidity in me that is wantonly
insulting. I
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